Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Perhaps you can share them with me another time then. I was unaware of your abilities in the kitchen,” I replied, taking my seat.
Her aunt laughed loudly this time and I couldn’t help but smile at the boisterous sound.
“Please, my lord, do not get your hopes up. I fear you will be greatly disappointed,” Lady Wellington said with a grin.
“Unless of course you have a tooth that needs extracting,” Lord Wellington added and the three of them burst into fits of laughter. This house had heard very little laughter and it was as if the walls wanted to soak it in or perhaps that was just me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Miriam Bathurst
The peacefulness of the countryside was like a long-lost friend. I gazed admiringly outside the window of Whitney’s room while she ate her breakfast. Soon, we would go out and enjoy the warmth of the sun.
Whitney had slept much later than the rest of us and missed breakfast in the dining room. Ashington had asked me what to have sent to her room for her and in doing so earned even more of my gratitude. I knew she would be disappointed she had missed the lively breakfast, but I would be sure to give her every detail when she was ready.
I heard her yawn behind me and turned to see her cover her small mouth with a dainty hand. “Did you not sleep well?” I asked her, concerned for her obvious fatigue.
“I slept fine. I believe I may have slept too much,” she replied with a smile. “This bed is much too comfortable and it pulled me into the deepest of sleeps.”
The much too pale pallor of her skin and the dark circles under her eyes told a different story than what she had claimed. Whitney never wanted to worry me, yet I could see she wasn’t feeling well. The travel had been too much on her.
I moved my attention to the food that had been brought up for her. She had eaten a biscuit and some ham. Whitney had never been much of an eater, but she needed proper nourishment after such an arduous journey. I wanted her to have energy to enjoy our time here.
“Tell me what you meant by a lively meal indeed,” Whitney urged as she picked up a berry from her plate.
I shared everything with Whitney, taking great care to be very detailed in hopes she would eat more of the food on her plate. Instead, she had finished her berry and then leaned back on the pillows of her bed as if the task of eating required more rest. My concern for her was mounting, and I had convinced myself to speak to Ashington about seeking a doctor once I left this room.
Once I finished telling her of our morning, she yawned again and settled deeper into her pillows. “Oh, I do hate I missed that. I shall be on time tomorrow, but you must promise it will be just as entertaining.” Her smile wasn’t forced, but it was tired.
Standing, I walked over and pulled the covers over her gently. “The travel has exhausted you and rest is the only cure. We shall frolic in the garden later today when you are well and good. Right now, you need to take care.” I said all of this in my stern voice that left no room for argument. It was a habit with Whitney since oft times she could be stubborn.
“I believe you’re right. Just a bit more rest would do me well,” she agreed, only alarming me further. I had used my stern voice to keep her from disagreeing with me, yet her lack of argument did not sit well with me. For Whitney to want to stay in bed, it meant she did not feel well at all.
Kissing her on the head, I gave her one last glance to see she had already closed her eyes. As quietly as I could, I left her room in search of Ashington. Since I was on a mission, my focus was more clear and finding Ashington’s office was easier than the idea of finding the dining room this morning had felt.
It had only taken me three wrong doors before I opened the correct one. However, Ashington had not been in there. The office had been quite empty. Frustrated, I closed the door back the way it had been and went off in search of someone who might know of his whereabouts.
The butler was walking from the kitchen toward the entry way when I came down the stairway. I couldn’t recall his name and I felt ashamed, but my mind was preoccupied with other issues at the moment. “Excuse me, sir,” I called out before I reached the bottom step.
He halted and turned to face me. “Miss Bathurst. How may I be of service?” he asked.